


Domestic Rites I

by acaelousqueadcentrum



Series: Domestic Rites [1]
Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: Domesticity meme, F/F, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:41:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaelousqueadcentrum/pseuds/acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>13 small stories of a life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Rites I

**Who cooks normally?**

For the most part, Holly cooks. There was an incident and after the firefighters left and Holly stopped laughing they'd kind of mutually agreed that Gail would not be allowed in the kitchen unsupervised anymore. For everyone's safety. Gail's limited to breakfast food (cold cereals and toast) and sandwiches. The oven is absolutely off limits now too. It took them forever to scrape all the cheese off the racks the last time Gail tried to make a pizza on a night Holly was stuck at work. But Holly's birthday is coming up and Gail wants to surprise her, so she's learning. She's been secretly watching cooking shows on the nights she sleeps at her place, and spent a few Saturday afternoons at Traci's, learning the basics. And though she probably won't ever be a great cook, the look on Holly's face when she comes into the kitchen after a long day at work? When she sees the baked chicken and rice on the table, the nice tableware that Gail set out, the flickering candles next to the bottle of her favorite wine? Totally worth it.

**How often do they fight?**

The thing is, they really don't. Sure, they bicker. Sure, they disagree. Sure, Gail can be deliberately stubborn and generally pretty rude. But honestly, they don't fight all that much. And that's because Holly knows Gail, knows her inside and out. She knows that Gail's bluster and brouhaha are generally just misdirection, something for the other woman to focus on when it hurts to much to get to the root of what's really bothering her. So when Gail rages and bites, Holly lets her, knowing that eventually the haze will clear from Gail's eyes and then she'll be able to get down to the business of making her lover whole again. So they don't really fight. But when they do, the fallout is immense. Epic even. The kind that brings empires to their knees, wreaks devastation at every corner. Like the time Gail put in an application to be considered for a transfer into ETF without telling her wife. Years later and the episode is still only mentioned in hushed, wary tones around the division, as if to speak too loudly of it would call back into their midst the bedeviled tempest that was a provoked Holly Stewart.

**What do they do when they're away from each other?**

Between their jobs, it happens more often than they'd like. Mostly, it's a matter of being on different shifts. Sometimes Gail gets put on several days of night shifts in a row, or Holly will be called out to a scene while Gail sleeps soundly in their bed. And every now and again Holly will have to go to a conference or seminar, or visit one of her sisters. And when it does, when they're separated, they try to find ways of keeping busy so they don't miss one another too much. They're not codependent, no matter what that asshole rookie from 27 said. They're in love. It's different.

So Holly, for the most part, tries to keep all her routines the same. Not really letting anything slip in Gail's absence; she'll tidy up around the house, do the laundry or the dishes. Or she'll use the time to catch up on some article she's working on or edit a chapter of the latest book she's been contracted to write. And when she's really bored she'll put on some movie or TV show that she knows Gail hates, something that she wouldn't normally get to watch. Sometimes if Gail's been gone for too long, and she's just in need of some company, Holly'll call up one of their friends. She'll go out for a drink with Rachel, or she'll get a hold of Traci and go out to dinner with her and Leo and sometimes Steve if he's free.

Gail's the one who goes a little batty when she and Holly are apart for too long. It's not like when she was with Nick, like when he was undercover with McNally and she was left alone to worry and wonder. It's not like when she and Chris were dating, when they'd get stuck on separate shifts or duties and go days barely seeing each other. Sure, she'd kind of miss the guys, and she'd be pleased to be reunited with them. But she never felt the ache of missing them, not like she does when a single day goes by and she hasn't lain eyes on Holly. Hasn't touched her or heard her voice. It's an actual physical pain. So at those times when she wakes alone in their bed, whether it's a single day, a week, or longer, Gail just does her best to survive. She wakes up and goes to work. She eats more donuts than Holly would approve of and drinks coffee like its water. She ignores the dishes and laundry, she sprawls upside down on the couch and plays video games until the first rays of sunlight peek out over the hazy morning horizon. She waits for Holly to come back home.

**Nicknames for each other?**

It's not like Holly can't think of a nickname for her girlfriend. It's just that that's not her thing. She's not a nickname kind of person. Sure, she'll call Gail by her title every now and again, saunter up to her girlfriend at a crime scene and whisper "Hello, Officer" into the unsuspecting woman's ear. But beyond that, and the little terms of endearment that just slip out when she's talking to Gail—the sweethearts, honeys, babes, and so on—Holly just doesn't have a nickname for her blonde girlfriend. Instead, it's the way she says Gail's name that means everything. How carefully the sound forms on her tongue, how safe she holds it on her lips. She might not have a nickname for Gail, but what she does have is a way of saying her girlfriend's name that lets everyone know just how deep her feelings for the blonde go. Gail, on the other hand, has a million nicknames for Holly, of course. The first one dates back to the day them met, when the tall, confident brunette strolled past the officer with her big, red bag of tricks. Lunchbox, Gail had called her with a sassy smirk. Sure, she'd called Holly many other things over the course of their relationship. She'd called Holly a geek and a nerd, she'd called her weird and dorky and even smelly—one time, and it was a joke—but Lunchbox is the one that really stuck. Lunchbox is the one that Gail whispers into Holly's ear to wake her up when the doctor has fallen asleep on the couch. Lunchbox is the one that Gail leaves on notes when she's got an early shift, or when she stops by the morgue for a mid-day catch-up. Gail might have a lot of nicknames for Holly, but Lunchbox is the one that means the most. Lunchbox is the one that means "I love you."

**Who is more likely to pay for dinner?**

Holly usually pays when they go out to eat. It's not like Gail wouldn't. She pays for plenty; she's always picking up something for Holly to eat at the lab, a coffee and a sandwich or something like that. She does it because she knows her girl would just forget to eat otherwise. She'd get all caught up in this mystery or that one and just keep working until Gail swung by to pick her up and take her home. It's just that usually going out for dinner is Holly's idea. Gail would honestly prefer to just stay home and eat take-out or leftovers if there are any in the fridge. And if they did decide to go out, and it were left up to Gail, they'd just end up at the Penny for drinks and burgers. But every now and again Holly feels like trying something new, like getting a little dressed up and going somewhere a little more special. So she works her magic, talking her adorably cantankerous girlfriend into going out with promises of alcohol and food and many, many orgasms upon their return home. And when the bill comes, she passes over her card without a thought, just happy to be sitting across the table from her beautiful Gail with a full belly and a slight buzz and the pleasant itch of arousal crawling through her veins. It's worth it.

**Who steals the covers at night?**

Shortly after they started sleeping together a pile of blankets appeared in a basket on the side of Holly's bed. Because, as Holly found out very quickly, Gail is a bit selfish when it comes to the bedding. Okay, that's a lie. She's not a bit selfish. She's a straight-up hog. They'll start out curled up together under the duvet, both with an equal share of the covers, and at some point in the night Holly will wake up, absolutely freezing, to find that Gail has somehow wrapped the entire blanket around herself, looking like a little blonde burrito. A cute, gently snoring, not-freezing blanket burrito. It doesn't happen every night, of course. Most nights Gail barely moves in her sleep. But every now and again she'll have a weird, wild night, tossing and turning and slowly pulling all the covers over to her side of the bed. And rather than wake her sleeping girlfriend up to get back her rightful half, her girlfriend who has enough trouble getting to sleep and staying that way, Holly just sighs and reaches into the basket for the heavy fleece blanket she keeps there. And then rolls back into Gail, wrapping her arms around the sleeping woman again as she lets the sound of Gail's breathing seduce her back into unconsciousness.

**What would they get each other for gifts?**

It's surprising, but Gail is actually really good at giving gifts. To Holly, that is. Holly's the only person Gail cares enough to put any thought into what to give. And it's not just the big events, birthdays and Christmases and anniversaries. It's the days she comes home with candy in the shape of bones because she and Dov were on the scene of a break-in at a joke shop and they made her think of Holly. Or that time she saw "Lesbian University: Home of the Lovely Lady Lickers" t-shirt when Holly dragged her to Toronto's Pride celebration and went back to buy it while Holly was off getting them some beers. She's good at the big events too, of course, but in a different kind of way. For the big events? She gives orgasms. Multiple, glorious, toe-curling orgasms. Holly's first birthday after they started dating? Gail met her at the door, naked. For the next few days Holly's muscles screamed with just about every movement. Their third Christmas, Gail took her up to the family cottage by the lake where she and Holly spent an entire week making love in front of the fire, in the soft bed in the master bedroom, even on the kitchen floor one morning when Gail came upon Holly half-dressed and swaying her hips to some Beyoncé song on the radio. Oh, but the big gift—the best gift—was their fifth anniversary. It had been a long, hard year, one filled with a terrible mix of work and personal troubles. For the week leading up to their anniversary they'd been dealing with Holly's father, who had landed himself in the hospital with a minor heart attack. He was going to be okay—he was going to have to cut back on the bacon and onion rings, but he was going to be okay. But the fear and stress had pushed their upcoming anniversary to the back of Holly's mind. Which explains why she was a little surprised to wake up to the weight of Gail, in her pajamas, straddling her hips. But what drew her eye was not the sight of her girlfriend's breasts—though they were magnificent as always—or her soft, loving smile. No, it was the bit of sparkle in Gail's hands, the radiant flash that caught and threw the light of morning across the room. The band of metal and rock that Gail was nervously toying with as she waited for Holly to fully wake. Best. Present. Ever.

Holly, on the other hand, sometimes has a hard time figuring out what to get Gail. Her girlfriend likes weapons and shoes. She likes cheese puffs and sex. And she likes her. And that's basically the exhaustive list of things Gail likes. So when a gift-giving event rolls around Holly gets nervous. She wracks her brain trying to remember things that Gail has shown interest in recently, whether her girlfriend looked twice at a sweater in the mall, or made some comment about liking a new band. When Holly looks back at the early times of their relationship, she absolutely shudders at some of the gifts she gave Gail. The new phone case. The pair of thick and fluffy socks for the woman whose feet were always freezing in bed. The potted plant. Sure, Gail claimed to love each one of them (even the plant, which is somehow, miraculously, still alive) but Holly knows that they were all kind of lame. Well meant, but lame. But slowly, as the months and years pass and Holly falls deeper and deeper in love with Gail, she's treated to little glimpses of the Gail that lives beneath her girlfriend's prickly exterior. She learns that as a child Gail absolutely loved the Anne of Green Gables books, and so for one Christmas she finds and tracks down a gorgeous illustrated edition that makes the blonde's eyes go soft and sweet and fill with childhood nostalgia. And there's the time she buys Gail a brand new leather jacket after the old one got torn—really, slashed—on an undercover operation. That gift was well-received. Very, very well-received. Of course, she still screws up every now and again. Like the bicycle. To be honest, she hadn't thought that one through. But the look on Gail's face and the way her girlfriend had laughed for hours after seeing it had kind of been worth the humiliation.

**Who remembers things?**

No one would believe it, but Gail is the one who remembers dates and names and important things. It's part of what makes her such a good cop. She's been trained her entire life to pick up information in a single moment, in a single glance. To take data in and spin it around in her head until the pieces all fit, to be able to recall each bit of data and report it back verbatim. And, not that she'd admit it to anyone, but she's kind of grateful for it. Gail knows that that talent that got her through her schooling, knows it's why she can pick up and learn new languages so easily. Just as she knows that it's a skill that will help her get to where she wants to go in the force. Once she figures out just what that is.

But it's not something she can turn off either. And that can be annoying. Because she knows all her friends' birthdays, anniversaries, and other stupid things that people write down on calendars and then force themselves to celebrate year after year. She can't help but remember them. But she doesn't want to. Because she just doesn't care. She knows Holly's birthday, she knows their anniversary, and those are the only two things she really feels she should have to care about. Holly can be responsible for the rest, as far as Gail's concerned. Trouble is, Holly is not the kind of person who can remember these sorts of things. Her head is so full of science and medical jargon, anatomy and chemical reactions, there's not room for too much else sometimes. She forgets her own birthday, so the fact that Gail hopes she'll remember anyone else's is a constant source of amusement for them both. But they're partners, and so they've got a system now. Gail remembers to remind Holly about the things that are important to the people in their life, and Holly takes the credit for remembering. It works for them.

**Who cusses more?**

It depends, really. It's situational. Gail cusses more in the course of a day, sure. It's just something about the situations she's put in day-after-day, chasing after people, being the target of their anger and their fear. Sometimes the only way to get someone to shut-up is to shout at them. Sometimes the only way to get up and keep doing her job after getting knocked to the ground by a gorilla in a fancy suit is to shout "motherfucker" and then launch herself back at the pile of bodies trying to get the situation under control. But when she's home? When she's out of uniform and in her home clothes and comfy socks? When Holly's curled up into her side or helping her wash away the bumps and bruises of the day? Gail never cusses, never swears, never says an ugly word. There's just something about the loving spell that Holly weaves around her that smoothes over all of Gail's rough edges, all of her prickly points. And she finds that she can be gentle, even in her words, with this woman who loves her so well.

But she loves it when Holly swears. Loves it when those short, harsh, plosive sounds slip past Holly's lips, come tumbling out of her panting mouth. Because Holly? Holly swears during sex. Whispers the dark words as Gail takes a nipple in her mouth, tongues her belly-button ring, as the cop's slim, strong fingers slip inside and curl, just the slightest, into her most secret of places, as she shudders and rides Gail's hand, breathless as she comes.

Holly swears like a sailor. And Gail loves it.

**What would they do if the other one was hurt?**

Gail, of course, turns into a volcano of rage whenever someone even threatens her wife. Well, that's not actually true. In situations where she knows Holly can handle herself, where there's no danger of Holly getting hurt? Gail lets her wife handle herself. Because Holly can. Holly is absolutely capable of taking care of herself.

But on those rare occasions, and they do occur, when Holly gets hurt, Gail tends to explode. All of her love for Holly burns in her heart, heats up her blood, and fuels her fiery determination to make whomever hurt her wife pay. So when that idiot from 27 accidentally stepped on Holly's hand at a crime scene and broke two of her fingers—on her dominant hand, nonetheless, though that didn't occur to Gail until later—she had him scrambling backward so fast he tripped over a tree root and almost brained himself. Or when Holly's new intern wasn't watching what he was doing with the scalpel or where he was going, and jabbed Holly in the back? After Gail got back from taking Holly in for stitches—three!—she took Arturo into the morgue's cold storage locker and made it very clear just where he would end up if he ever hurt her wife again. She's not entirely sure, but she thinks he might have wet himself just a little bit. When she told Holly, her wife rolled her eyes.

For Holly, on the other hand, things are different. She thought it would get easier with time. Thought getting a phone call or a visit from one of Gail's friends would eventually ease into an ache. But, if anything, the sharp biting pain of hearing that something has happened to Gail, that Gail is hurting or injured, has only gotten worse as the years have passed. That first time, the time before they were even dating, before they were even anything more than friends, was probably the easiest. Gail had called her herself, pretty doped up, but clearly alive and mostly intact. And even though Holly's heart had skipped a beat and her breathing got heavy as she drove to the hospital that day, she was mostly okay. She was just going to the hospital to pick up a friend who had been injured.

Now, though. Now each new episode somehow hurts more, cuts deeper. The deeper her love for the blonde police officer, the greater the fear of losing her.

But they've learned, both of them. Together. Gail has learned that she is absolutely not allowed to tell her friends or doctors not to contact her wife. That's non-negotiable. Even for a bump or scratch. Holly is to be told immediately. She'll make the decision whether to come to the hospital or not (she always comes) but she always gets informed. Always.

And Holly has learned to breathe, to take a moment and just let herself settle before she goes running off to Gail's side. That's Gail's rule for her, has been ever since the time Gail got punched in the eye and Holly, in her haste to get to the hospital, driving too fast on a snowy road, landed their car in a ditch. They'd both spent the night in the hospital that time. So now Holly waits until her pulse is steady and her breathing is normal before she even thinks about reaching for her car keys.

Even the other police officers have learned. For the big things, the serious injuries, like that time that Gail got stabbed through her vest, they've all learned to give Holly as much information as possible as soon as possible. Because without it Holly will fall apart. All the what-ifs and maybes will eat through her, will settle right above her eyes, in the deepest parts of her belly. Because without details, without knowing what's happened, Holly's left with her imagination. And she has a very good imagination. And lot of experience with violences people commit upon each other.

So when Oliver appears on their doorstep in the middle of the night, or Nick comes to the morgue with that look on his face, they tell her exactly what happened and exactly what they know. They hold nothing back. They make no false promises. They give no platitudes. And in the squad, on the ride over to the hospital, whomever's in with Gail gives updates over the radio, blood pressure, pulse, drugs the doctor's ordered, the whole shebang. Because the only way Holly can keep from breaking is to focus on all the little details, to let them come together in her mind, to rely on her own training as doctor. To see the whole scenario in her mind, as if she were the one there, the hands treating her beloved's wounds.

And when she finally does get to Gail, when she finally gets to take Gail home again, Holly holds tight. For the days and nights after, as Gail recovers, Holly holds her tight, almost as if she's afraid to let go. Gail lets her, of course. Gail lets her wife wrap her up in blankets and pillows on the bed, lets her cry hot tears into silky blonde hair, lets her whisper the words that anchor them together, that bind their hearts.

"I love you," she whispers, "you're mine."

And Gail answers the same way she does in the mornings, when Holly kisses her goodbye for the day and whispers a desperate "Come back to me" in her ear.

"Always."

**Who kissed who first?**

Well, Holly. In a coat closet at a wedding for people she'd never met.

But that was mostly alcohol and amusement and the happy feelings she really couldn't help but have at a wedding.

And then Gail. In an empty interrogation room at the precinct.

But that was fear and desperation and adrenaline at having been shot at, the desire for something pure amid the terrifying madness, the shock at realizing she wanted something she wasn't sure she could have.

The real first kiss? The kiss that signaled the start of something, a beginning?

That happened later.

Not later that night, or the morning after.

Though there were kisses then too.

But the real first kiss, the one that was free of all the confusion and fear, all the alcohol and amusement?

The one that was full of heart and soul, the one that started the everything that came after?

That one was in the dark hall of Holly's home, the one right outside her bedroom.

When Gail stopped them on their journey toward Holly's bed, stopped them right in the middle of the hall. Removed her lips from Holly's neck and tilted her head back just a bit so she could look Holly straight in the eyes.

And look she did.

They stood there for an eternity, for a second, for all the time it takes to fall in love. They stood there looking at each other, chests heaving, clothes half gone.

And then Gail smiled. That soft smile that rippled all the way up to her glistening eyes.

And after that it didn't matter who kissed who first.

Not as long as neither of them was the first to stop.

**Who made the first move?**

Holly hated the "predatory lesbian" stereotype. Absolutely hated it. And so she was determined to never make the first move with a straight woman, never cross that line first.

And then came Gail.

And there went all of Holly's rules.

So yes, Holly made the first move.

She kissed Gail at the wedding.

She took Gail home after the shootings.

She climbed into a bathtub with Gail and touched and soothed and loved the other woman's secret wounds away.

And that night, in her bed, as she held her weight above the naked woman below her, she looked down and asked one last time, "Are you sure?"

And when Gail nodded, when Gail nodded and cupped the back of Holly's head in her hand, pulling her down for a soft, deep kiss, Holly threw all her fears and rules out the window.

She's never regretted it.

**Who started the relationship?**

The problem was that they didn't communicate well at the beginning.

Not Gail, who has never communicated well in her life. But not Holly either, too afraid that to call attention to what was happening would scare the blonde away.

So in the beginning, even though they both considered themselves in a relationship with the other, but neither of them made the move to mention it to the other. This, of course, led to their first break-up. This, and Lisa, who Gail still refuses to acknowledge and Holly still hasn't entirely forgiven.

All that heartache, all that silence and all those tears. Everything. It all could have been prevented by a simple, honest conversation. But in the beginning, well, they let their bodies do the talking for them.

And bodies are notoriously bad at translations.

But the second time, when they were ready to try again. After the anger and the disappointment had passed, after a few bad blind dates between the two of them, after sitting down and airing all of their grievances, it was Gail who had the courage to say it. To tell Holly that she wanted to try again, that she was ready for them to be an "us" again.

And this time, all their cards on the table, this time it was built to last.


End file.
